


All The World Loves a Clown

by luvscharlie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Play, Clowns, Costumes, F/M, Spanking, coulrophilia, coulrophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-03-08 09:28:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3204284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvscharlie/pseuds/luvscharlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Most women are afraid of clowns, but somehow still end up dating one."  (Author unknown)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All The World Loves a Clown

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta [](http://lunalovepotter.livejournal.com/profile)[lunalovepotter](http://lunalovepotter.livejournal.com/), and to the mods for reminding me I can do this. Originally written for the 2014 [](http://samhain-smut.livejournal.com/profile)[samhain_smut](http://samhain-smut.livejournal.com/) fest.

**Title:** All The World Loves a Clown  
**Author:** [](http://luvscharlie.livejournal.com/profile)[**luvscharlie**](http://luvscharlie.livejournal.com/)  
**Prompt #** None-- My own, clown costume (my own personal fear)  
**Pairing(s)/Character(s):** Oliver Wood/Lavender Brown  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Summary** "Most women are afraid of clowns, but somehow still end up dating one." (Author unknown)  
**Word Count:** 2896  
**Warnings/Content:** costumes, role-play, anal play, spanking, coulrophobia, coulrophilia  
**Disclaimer:** This is fanfiction, and clearly not written for any kind of profit… only for porn.  
**Author's notes:** Thanks to my beta [](http://lunalovepotter.livejournal.com/profile)[**lunalovepotter**](http://lunalovepotter.livejournal.com/) , and to the mods for reminding me I can do this. Originally written for the 2014 [](http://samhain-smut.livejournal.com/profile)[**samhain_smut**](http://samhain-smut.livejournal.com/) fest.

_October 31st, Halloween night_

Lavender looked in the mirror and twirled. "I look fantastic." It was true. Her sexy nurse costume fit her figure like a glove and her boobs spilled over the top in a way that bordered on indecent. It was fabulous, she thought as she swiped bright red lipstick over her lips and hung a stethoscope around her neck for effect.

"You are the worst girlfriend in London." The voice from the other room was a very petulant, very whiny Oliver. "Probably the worst girlfriend on the entire planet."

Lavender stomped toward her bedroom (as much stomping as her stiletto heels, fishnet stockings one size too small and her tight skirt would allow). "Honestly, Ollie-Wally, if I had a Sickle for every time you said that..."

"My God, stop calling me that! You sound ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as I look. I told you I wanted to dress up as a professional Quidditch Player!" Oliver shouted from behind the closed door. "I already had the costume and everything."

"You dressed up as that last year, and the year before, and probably every year since you were old enough to dress yourself!" Lavender was losing her patience.

Oliver swung open the bedroom door, and Lavender screamed a panicked scream and ran across the room at a fast clip, falling over her stilettos and smacking her chin on the carpet.

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU WEARING?" she squealed.

Oliver stood in the doorway wearing a primary coloured clown costume, with big polka dots and a brightly painted face. The costume was completed by round red nose, yellow wig and shoes that were twice the size of Oliver's already big feet.

"I'm wearing the costume that my lunatic girlfriend picked out for me." He gave a look at himself in the mirror on the bedroom wall before exiting the room. "My girlfriend who clearly hates me. I mean, if you didn't want to do it that way a few nights ago, you could have just said so--seemed like you were enjoying it to me, though-- you didn't have to go exact revenge by public humiliation."

"I did NOT pick that out. I would never pick that out. That is the most horrifying, terrible thing I have ever seen. Take it off. Right the fuck now."

"Ooh, I like it when you get demanding." Oliver licked his clown lips, swiping red makeup across his face in a bit of a blur, then giving a small spit at the terrible taste.

"Not funny. Not funny. Not even remotely funny." Lavender was scooting back on the carpet, sliding her rump across the floor to distance herself from Oliver. "You were supposed to be a dashing doctor. There were scrubs and a thermometer and, you know, all those things we could play with later. I had plans. Doctor playing plans. The costume shop must have messed up my order."

Oliver's grin twisted his clown face into even greater horror. Lavender squealed. "I like the way you think, Brown. I would love to play doctor with you." He gave her costume a once over. "You're just the kind of nurse this doctor needs. I do hope you have one of those thermometers you were talking about. I'm going to enjoy putting it in your tight little bum."

He started to close the distance between them and Lavender let out a blood curdling scream. It was so loud that Oliver clamped his hands over his ears and knocked his frizzy yellow wig a bit askew. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" he shouted.

"You. You are wrong with me. Don't you take another step towards me, you monster." She reached between her ample boobs and pulled out her wand (it took a bit of work, but she was determined). She drew the wand (though a bit of tissue she'd used to even up her boobs stuck to the handle) and warned him away. "I'll hex you into next Thursday."

Oliver's eyes widened. "Oh. My. God. You're afraid of clowns."

Lavender retorted quickly. "Anyone with half a brain and an ounce of good sense is afraid of clowns. Clowns are terrifying. With their stupid painted on smiles and that freakish fake nose. And what the hell is with those shoes anyway? No self-respecting, sane person would leave the house wearing shoes like that."

Oliver began to laugh hard. "Only _you_ would rationalise a fear based on a person's bad taste in footwear."

"That's as good a reason as any I know," Lavender retorted, her wand at the steady. "Besides it's not just their shoes. If you can't keep the lipstick on your lips, don't put it on your face!"

"Oh, stop being ridiculous. Put that down before you hurt yourself."

Lavender's wand didn't waver even the tiniest bit. "No."

"You're going to make us late for the Weasleys' Hallowe'en party."

"I'm not attending any function-- not party, not funeral, not circus-- with you dressed in a clown costume." She shuddered. "Someone would hex you before you got ten steps from the flat." She paused. "That someone would probably be me, but that's not really the point now, is it?"

Oliver leaned against the doorframe and grinned-- the clown makeup made his smile grotesque-- "You know, we could use this costume mix up to help you face your fears."

Lavender eyed him warily. "I am sure I'm not going to like where this is headed."

"No, but I can probably make you like where it ends."

He leered at her, and it was a look she recognised. Her sexy nurse costume was working its charm, and Oliver's ridiculous costume was doing nothing to hide his large, pointing appreciation.

"I'm listening." Lavender was still holding her wand out, but her arm had begun to slump in the middle.

"Have sex with the clown."

Oliver said it nonchalantly, but Lavender's mouth fell open and she squealed, "Have you lost your fucking mind?" Her wand shot sparks that singed Oliver's wig. It was only his quick Keeper's reflexes that saved him from further injury.

"Oh, come on. It's still me under the costume." He held out his hands plaintively. "And put that fucking thing away before you hurt someone!"

"True, it is still you under there. But the outer package is hideous." Lavender shuddered, but she did lower her wand.

"Luckily, my ego is big enough not to be totally deflated by your repulsion." Oliver grinned and took a step forward. "It'll be fun. My clown parts are sick and you should nurse them back to health."

"I'm a people nurse, not a monster nurse." But she did lower her wand a fraction more so that it was dormant at her side. The clown became a bit less scary with Oliver's voice coming from that horrible face.

Oliver _Expelliarmous'd_ her wand when she let her guard down, and caught it as it soared through the air. He set both his own and her wand aside. "Now, we've taken care of that."

He began to close the distance between them, and Lavender scrambled to her feet. She didn't have her wand any longer, so she reached into the crevice of her cleavage and pulled out the one remaining thing she had. It wasn't much, but she uncapped her lipstick and pointed it at him. "Don't come near me!" she said with authority.

"Or you'll what? Paint my lips?" Oliver pointed at his red mouth. "Beat you to it, love." He held out his hands in the most non-menacing fashion he could muster. "We have the costumes. We're not going to the party. We might just as well make the best of the situation, right?"

"The best of the situation would be for you to take off that disgusting costume and I'll pretend you're a dashing doctor, and we'll have really hot sex. Okay?" Lavender pouted her lips hopefully.

"No. I'm feeling this clown costume now. And I'm liking it."

Lavender drew her brows together. "Sometimes I really hate you."

Oliver smiled back. "I know. It keeps our relationship fun and lively. Hate sex is almost better than make-up sex, and I don't have to buy you flowers tomorrow because I was a dick."

Lavender crossed her arms beneath her bosom, and her boobs almost came the rest of the way out of her nurse's uniform. Oliver licked his lips at the sight.

"I've got news for you, Ollie, you're always a dick."

"Hurtful. Very hurtful. Such a pretty mouth to say such ugly things. Come on, love, let's conquer that fear, eh? What better way to spend Hallowe'en?"

"I can think of a hundred better ways to spend Hallowe'en." And while she wouldn't admit it, Oliver had certainly got her attention. Now, she couldn't shake the idea of playing with her fear. Conquering it, perhaps? Having sex with a clown was a terror. Having sex with her boyfriend in a clown costume... she hated to admit that she was starting to wonder what that might be like.

"But you love to be scared and today is National Scary Day." Oliver readjusted his wig and pulled off his clown nose. "See, I'll even make it easy for you. No nose." He tossed it aside, leaving only white face paint where the red bulb had been.

Oliver crossed the room and sat down on the sofa. "Look, this is me. Evil clown me. Just sitting on the sofa being evil."

"Your evilness is becoming annoying in a hurry. Scary clowns don't talk. They just sort of moan and groan and then kill you while wearing that horrible painted on smile."

"This is the first time I've ever seen you show an aversion to make-up of any sort. Usually, you're all about painting it on."

Lavender put a hand on her hip. "So I look like a clown when I put my lipstick on then? Is that what you're saying, Mr. Clown Who Will Never Get Shagged If He Doesn't Shut The Fuck Up?" Lavender slapped her hand to her forehead. "I just used clown and shag in the same sentence. The world is probably ending tonight."

"Oh the dramatics."

Lavender marched over to the sofa and put her finger in Oliver's face. "I thought I told you to shut up."

"You did. But you know me well enough to know I'm a terrible listener."

She sighed. "Yes, you hear Quidditch scores, and that's about all your little pea brain processes."

"Not true. Right now my little pea brain is processing the fuck out of that costume you're wearing, love."

"Pretty sure that's not your brain." Lavender gave his groin an appraising look. His cock was standing at attention and the thin fabric of the clown costume tented to show his desire.

Oliver held out both hands, and she took them, taking a cautious step towards the sofa and the painted on face that had haunted her nightmares since childhood.

"You look hideous."

Oliver sniggered. "It's always your sweet talk that turns me on the most." He pulled her to him and forced her into his lap before she could pull away. "See, just me in here. Nothing to be afraid of. I promise not to eat your brains." His palm ran up her back and around to capture her hand. He pressed it to his face and the makeup felt tacky on Oliver's face. He kissed her wrist and when she tried to jerk away, he held her tight, making eye contact as his tongue darted out to lick the spot she'd rolled perfume onto a few moments before.

His face screwed up in distaste making the clown face distort in a way that almost had Lavender running across the room, but Oliver grabbed her waist and pulled her to straddle his legs. "Still just me. That perfume smells a fuck of a lot better than it tastes."

Her new position across Oliver's knees had pushed her tight skirt up past her thighs and the thin fabric of his clown costume and her barely there knickers made contact in just the right place. She felt his hardness and bucked against him.

"Fuck!" Oliver swore.

Fear is a funny thing. No matter how much she wanted to get away from the clown, the adrenaline at being so close to her fear had her blood pumping in her ears, her heart racing and _all_ her juices flowing. She was getting wet. So wet.

She touched a tentative hand to his forehead. "You feel feverish."

Oliver put his hand behind her neck and pulled her forward so that her lips were mere inches from his own. "Burning up. You?"

Lavender's voice was throaty with desire, but she stayed in her role. "I'm supposed to ask the questions. You're supposed to sit here and be terrifying."

"How am I doing so far?" Oliver nipped her lower lip and pulled it between his teeth, and placed a firm smack on her left bum cheek.

"F-fine. Fine," she squeaked. She felt Oliver's hands pulling her skirt up over her bum, hands sliding into her knickers, fingers sliding into the crease of her arse.

"Fucking hell," she moaned into Oliver's ear. She grabbed his face between her palms, ignoring the tackiness of the face paint, and captured his lips with her own. Her tongue darted into the warmth of his mouth as his finger dipped into the tight entrance of her bum.

"Still scared?" Oliver whispered, teeth nipping at her neck, biting at her jaw, smearing his face paint on her skin.

"Terrified."

His finger made another dip into her bum, teasing, driving her mad as she bucked against him. "Want me stop, scaredy cat?"

"Stop and I'll break your jaw."

"God, it's hot when you go all violent and punchy." Before she knew what was happening, Oliver had grabbed her, pushed her face down into the cushions of the sofa, and her bum was across his lap. "Ever been spanked by a clown before, Lav?"

"In all my worst nightmares."

Oliver's hand came down sharply on her bum and she squealed and tried to wiggle away. He held her tight. He tugged her knickers down to her thighs and dipped a finger into her warmth. "So wet." She moaned and squirmed encouraging him. He added a second finger to the first and chuckled when she gasped, "More."

"So eager for all Clowny has to offer, eh?" He took his hand away and brought it down on her bum five times in rapid succession. Her cheeks turned red and she squeaked and squealed with every slap, wriggling against him, grinding down onto his lap as she bucked.

As much as she loved feeling Oliver's hands on her bum, being spanked like a naughty child, a game they played often. It was **her** night to conquer her fears and she pushed her way into a sitting position, kicked off her knickers and straddled his lap again. She popped the top button on her top and pressed Oliver's made-up face between her tits, pushing aside the wig and throwing it over her shoulder.

Oliver lavished her nipples with ample attention, first one and then the other, as she arched her back to give him better access.

Oliver's costume was a one-piece. There was no easy access to what she needed. "Rip open your costume. Let me ride you."

"It's a rental," he protested.

"Really?" she shouted. "Since when did you become such a Sickle pincher?"

"Not sure what came over me. This feels like inking up a library book," he said, as he clutched the material of his costume between his fists and gave a sharp tug. "I'll probably need to spank you for making me defile rented property."

"Promises, promises." Lavender winked at him as she heard the fabric tear. She looked down between them and saw his cock spring free. "No pants?"

"I was planning on shagging you in a closet at the party. Pants would only get in the way."

She grasped the base of his cock and his eyes closed and his breath drew in with a sharp gasp. He pinched her nipples hard, and she matched him groan for groan as she slid down onto him, taking his full length and rocking against him.

"God, this beats any closet, at any party, any time." Oliver's voice was throaty, and she captured his mouth with her own as she began to ride him. Rocking and bouncing. Where she was usually tender and gentle in bed, she was rough and fast. Wanting. Needing. He thrust up as she drove down and each thrust drove each of them to the edge of their climax.

He slid his hand between them and pressed his finger against her clit. Her orgasm hit her forcefully, making her clutch at his shoulders as she trembled and clenched around him. His climax followed hers and they sat in a spent and sweaty tangle.

"How does it feel to fuck a clown?" Oliver asked, his hand running up and down her back, brushing through her hair.

"Oh, I've fucked a clown before. This time he was just wearing the costume." She pressed a chaste kiss on his ruined makeup, and snuggled her nose against his neck.

"Hurtful. That's hurtful."

She giggled and he placed a sharp smack on her bum.


End file.
